Fixed up in February (Spring River Valley Book 2)

BOOK: Fixed up in February (Spring River Valley Book 2)
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Fixed up in February

 

By

Clarice Wynter

 

 

 

Published by:
Clarice Wynter

 

copyright 201
3
,
Clarice Wynter

 

Cover art by
Niina Cord

 

 

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, brands, media and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Kindle Edition

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

* * * *

 

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This series is for everyone who needs a little romance in their lives.

 

With special thanks again to: JB Lynn, Jean Cooper and Niina Cord for their hard work and helpful suggestions.   

Chapter One

 

 

“I just want you to know, I’ve never done this before.” Audrey Desmond met the steady gaze of her lunch companion and tried to hide her nervousness with a lighthearted laugh. “I wouldn’t be doing this at all except I’m…desperate. Not desperate, that sounds lame. I mean, just desperate to meet someone who isn’t a creep.”

Cassandra Hall sipped her coffee and smiled. “I totally get it. I’ve had my share of…less than memorable first dates too. It’s hard to meet people, and those dating sites on the Internet are—”

“A craps shoot. I tried that, and it was a disaster. In fact, every date I went on last year, and the two I’ve been on this year, were unmitigated disasters. I don’t want to sound like a whiner, but really, I’m starting to think there’s something wrong with me. My friend Harper says I’m too picky, but when a guy wants to show you his scar where he had a ballpoint pen removed from his duodenum, you have to ask yourself—”

“Duodenum?”

“Small intestine. I’m sorry I even brought that up. See? It’s me. Maybe working at the hospital has turned me into a weirdo magnet. When men find out I’m a nurse, they seem to want to show me things I’d rather not see without a doctor and an IV sedative on hand. Can you help me?”

“I think I can. Tell me exactly what you’re looking for in a guy, deep down. The real thing, not just tall, dark, and handsome.”

Audrey frowned. “So tall, dark, and handsome is off the table?”

Cassie laughed. “I’ll consider those a given. But beyond that. Describe your perfect man.”

At this point, Audrey really wasn’t sure what she wanted in a man, but she could quote chapter and verse on what she didn’t want. She thought for a moment, contemplating the rich swirl of cream she poured into her own coffee. At the moment, she knew one perfect couple. Her best friend Harper Shaw had been left only steps away from the altar barely a month ago, and in the interim had found Grant Addison, the smart, hunky, romantic, gorgeous business manager of the catering hall where Harper’s wedding reception was to have been held. Audrey was thrilled that her friend had traded her wishy-washy ex-fiancé for a man like Grant. Unfortunately, as much as Audrey might have hoped, Grant didn’t have any brothers.

After careful consideration, she met Cassie’s expectant gaze. “I want a man with character, someone who’ll stand up for himself
and
for me, someone who knows who he is and what he wants and doesn’t let anything get in his way. I’m not a candy-and-flowers kind of girl, but I definitely need a man who can handle a serious relationship. He doesn’t have to be sentimental, but he has to be solid and dependable and…is that too much? Because at this point I’ll settle for someone who’s never been admitted to the psych ward.”

Cassie tucked a strand of long blond hair behind one year and made a few notes on a small pad of paper she’d brought with her. She looked up, squinting her blue eye—the other was brown—as though sizing Audrey up. “You strike me as a no-nonsense type. You want someone who’s straightforward so you don’t have to wonder where you stand with him. Am I right?”

Audrey examined her coffee spoon. “I usually get in trouble for being too straightforward. I say what I think…maybe a little too
often
.”

“So you want a guy who can handle the truth and isn’t going to crumble if you have a complaint about something he says or does.”

“Do they make guys like that?”

“Trust me. I know a few.”

“How many can I have?”

Cassie smirked. “Sorry, I don’t do ménages. If you want more than one guy, you’ll have to find the second one on your own.”

“I’ll take one. One would be plenty. Thanks.”

“Okay. Give me a week
,
and I’ll call you. How’s your schedule at the hospital? Are weekends good for you?”

“Perfect.” Audrey gave Cassie her schedule and her phone number, and they finished off lunch talking about Cassie’s cupcake business. They parted in the parking lot of the diner, each heading to her own snow-covered car.

Before she pulled out of her parking space, Audrey fished her cell phone out of her purse and dialed Harper’s number. Her friend had given her Cassandra’s number and urged her to get help from the town’s self-appointed matchmaker, a suggestion Audrey had considered a joke until last week when she realized six months had passed since she’d even cared if a guy called her for a second date. She was tired of starting at square one, and after seeing how happy Harper was with Grant, Audrey decided it was time for her to find someone to fill the void in her own life.

When Harper answered, Audrey lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “The deed is done.”

“What? Oh, you called Cassandra? That’s great.”

“I hope she can find me a prince charming, because I’m afraid you might have gotten the last one.”

“Don’t worry. I hear she’s responsible for half a dozen marriages. She’s good.”

Audrey sighed. “Well, I may be the exception to the rule. Let’s see what she comes up with for me.”

“Who. You mean
who
she comes up with.”

“What if I’m unmatchable?”

“You’re not.”

“I could ruin her reputation.”

“You won’t.”

“I’m kryptonite when it comes to dating.”

“You’re not.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll call you later.” Audrey and Harper hung up, and Audrey contemplated her hazel eyes in the rearview mirror. “Watch out, Superman. You haven’t met Audrey Desmond yet.”

 

* * * *

 

“Damn…I mean darn it, sorry. Hold that pose, I’ll be right back.” Max Shannon set down his camera and ducked out of the portrait room of his small studio. The young mother and her twin infants he was trying to photograph didn’t seem to mind the interruption, but he was at his wits’ end today. Crying babies, unruly toddlers, and two German shepherds wearing Styrofoam hearts with plastic cupid arrows had turned his day into reason number one why he regretted opening a photography studio.

If he didn’t have bills to pay that selling magazine photos and art shots just didn’t cover, he’d have dumped the business and gone completely freelance. Instead he spent his days answering phone calls and making appointments for people to bring in their children, their pets, and sometimes inanimate objects dressed in costumes. He grabbed the studio phone on the fourth ring and took a split second to suppress his annoyance. “Shannon Studios, Max Shannon.”

“Max, I’m desperate.”

He straightened, concerned by the worry he heard in the familiar voice. “Cass? What’s wrong?” His usually cheerful cousin never called him in the middle of a work day.

“I’m in a bit of a bind. Are you busy tonight?”

Instinctively
,
Max glanced at his watch. The sound of fussy babies reached him from the portrait room. “I have one client to finish up, then I’m free. What’s the matter?”

“I need a man.”

“You’re my first cousin, I think there are laws about that in the State of New York.”

“First of all…ewwww. And second of all, it’s not illegal in New York, and third…
ewwww
. Not for me, jerk. I set up a blind date for someone tonight, and the guy just called me. His appendix burst or is about to burst, and he can’t make it. The girl is a nurse, but I don’t think she wants to perform emergency surgery on her date between the appetizer and the main course. How would you like to fill in for him?”

“Can I tell her my name is Bond? James Bond?”

Cassie made a disparaging noise. “You can use your real name. Look, I would not normally do this, I feel terrible about it, but this girl has had a horrible year with men, and she really needs a night out with someone nice and normal, and unfortunately you’re the best I could come up with on short notice.”

Max peeked into the portrait room. His client smiled at him, but her expression seemed a bit tight. He couldn’t blame her for losing her patience. The babies had gone from giggles and grins to those wrinkled up faces he’d come to know heralded a bout of serious, red-faced crying. If he was lucky, he had five minutes to get one good shot before the infants’ good humor evaporated completely.

“Let’s see, you’ve insulted me twice already in this conversation. Why should I help you?”

“Because you haven’t had a date in six months, and Audrey is very pretty, and you owe me a favor for taking
Nana
to the dentist last week.”

She had him there. Not that he didn’t love their shared grandmother, but he
had
stuck Cassie with senior chauffeur duty last week. “Pretty? What’s that code for?”

“She’s hot, okay. Brunette, pretty hazel eyes, very outspoken and smart. You’ll like her.”

A cranky sound emanated from the portrait room. Max cringed. “Okay. Because I owe you. When and where?”

“Tonight, seven o’clock, dinner at Colette’s. I’ll pay you back for the dinner unless you want to see her again.”

Max rolled his eyes. Cassie and her matchmaking. He’d never said much about his cousin’s penchant for meddling in other people’s love lives, but then again, she’d never tried to drag him into her little Cupid act before. “Cash only, plus tip.”

“Fine, cash and tip. Her name is Audrey Desmond. She’ll be wearing a red coat.”

“All right. I’ll be there. I’ll pick up my money tomorrow morning.”

“Only if you don’t want a second date.”

Max smirked. He really wasn’t looking for a date, but a free meal was a free meal. “I’ll pick up my money tomorrow morning.”

Chapter Two

 

 

Thick black smoke billowed up into the night sky above Colette’s Pub, visible only because heavy gray snow clouds obscured the stars. Audrey stood shivering among the crowd of diners who’d been evacuated from the restaurant due to a kitchen fire that broke out only moments after she’d arrived.

Blue lights from the assembled police cars clashed with red lights from the hook and ladder truck that blocked half the parking lot. The screech and static of emergency radios filled the air along with the smell of burnt barbecue ribs and charcoal-broiled burgers. Her stomach rumbled.

She wasn’t sure which was worse, that her date had already been fifteen minutes late when the staff of Colette’s herded everyone into the parking lot to escape the cloud of smoke rolling out of the kitchen, or that now, jumbled up with dozens of other patrons, she had zero chance of finding him even
if
he was here somewhere.

“And this makes twenty. I’m
so
done with dating,” she muttered into her cupped hands then blew on them to warm up her gloves. A light snow had started to fall, which might have been cozy to watch from inside a nice, warm restaurant
, but o
ut here in the freezing February wind, it just added insult to injury.

Besides that, she couldn’t even go home since all the emergency vehicles were blocking the exit onto West Denton Ave. She’d have to wait until the fire department cleared the scene and moved their truck to even get into her car.

Her cell phone rang, muffled by the pocket of her coat. She fished it out while watching another plume of smoke shoot skyward from the vents in the roof of the pub. This wasn’t looking good at all. “Hello?”

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